


don't sleep through dreams that can't come true

by Saraku



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Ambiguous Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), F/M, Fluff, M/M, Other, Time Skips, headcanons galore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:02:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21943333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraku/pseuds/Saraku
Summary: - you can throw your mask away.Burning bridges was redundant if they led to nowhere, yet centuries later, they lead him back to home.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Krile Mayer Baldesion, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch & Warrior of Light, G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	don't sleep through dreams that can't come true

He sits his ward down, stubborn as she may, and gently pulls the haphazard ties and ribbons off, smoothing out tangles as her mutters fade away for silence. “Is this alright?” G’raha asks, brushing strands of her hair past her face to bundle them at her back.

The sixteen-year old Krile Mayer Baldesion refuses to entertain him with an answer. He can’t quite blame her, he thinks silently. He can only imagine what it's like to be constantly chastised like a child despite being in her late teenage years.

Regardless, he sets upon his self-assigned task.

“Long hair can be tedious to take care of,” he replies, “so it takes practice. I do not know why you insist on growing your hair out now when you’ve been meticulous about it being short since we met, but your reasonings remain yours.” He refrains from mentioning the disastrous little incident just earlier; neither need a reminder of it right now.

Krile remains silent and G’raha almost thinks she’s angry at him until she lets out a whisper.

“And if I don’t wish to tell you?”

G’raha hums, bundling the longer strands into a ponytail and observing. “As I said, your reasons are your own. ‘twould be foolish of me to force someone to give me their secrets.”

Krile turns lightly, eyes meeting his, and G’raha wonders if the person in front of him has just seen some fickle manner of truth.

\---

It turns into a weekly session., and the incident that caused their first one remains in the past, learning from mistakes and forging new paths.

As Krile grows, so do her requests, and her choices and smiles become more stabilized.

He’s in the middle of a particularly tricky braid when the low hum of their shared room is interrupted.

The blue one.”

G’raha stops abruptly, peering over her shoulder. “Sorry?”

“Use the – can you use the blue one?”

She points and G’raha’s eyes follow, landing on the sea blue ribbon sitting on a desk. It would be a hassle – it was far enough that he’d need to get up to get it, far enough that he’d need to re-braid and align everything to her specifications.

In his wordless answer, he lets go of her hair and takes the ribbon. “This one, yes?” It feels like silk in his hands. Far too expensive for his touch, far too regal for a boy abandoned.

When Krile nods, hair spilling past her shoulders again, he smiles and starts his work over again.

When they finish, he thinks it's perfect for her.

\---

G’raha keeps silent as the argument outside his room shatters to silence and counts for a set of seconds when his door slams itself open.

Krile marches in, anger plastered on her very soul and G’raha shifts, preparing himself for their weekly ritual. The silence threatens to reign the atmosphere, but as G’raha works in the new braid, he speaks up.

“I’m sure you’ve no need to hear this,” he murmurs, “but you are your own person, Krile. Heed not what they say if it doesn’t apply.” It was against every nature of them being scholars – to omit passages because they were not pleasing.

G’raha likes to believe that sometimes, the rules must be broken.

There is a sharp grit in Krile’s posture.

“ _But_ –”

“I’m sure it will look lovely on you,” G’raha interrupts. There is a feeling of shame in his chest for interrupting, but Krile needed an intervention. “Don’t tie it by yourself now, alright? You have people willing to do it for you.”

Krile tips her head backwards, looking up at him. An unfamiliar feeling.

Raha smiles. “You show so much love to others. Let them show you that they love as you well.”

\---

“Admittedly, you’re not what I expected when the Students sent over an ‘eccentric Sage’.”

G’raha hides the bitter grin underneath a cheerful façade. “Pray, elaborate that statement? I’d hate to be predictable.” There was only so much he could keep up – if one prodded to hard, then his mask would collapse amongst this strange, familiar place far from comfort.

Rammbroes huffs, looking up from his papers. “Eccentric you are, expressive for a Miqo’te but capable of being quite serious once the topic shifts to the appropriate conversation? Elements I was not expecting from a Sage, one appointed from such an age.”

Only the fellows he left behind in Sharlayan before the Calamity all those years ago knew of his age when he was appointed. He wonders if such secrets will always be against him.

Upon his silence, Rammbroes continues, a piercing gaze locking onto him. “What hidden talents lie under the jokester’s mask, I wonder?”

The way Rammbroes watched him made the world shift beneath his feet, like a Calamity being performed right under his very soul.

Distracting himself, G’raha decides that the man required glasses and wonders if he had the spare change for one. If the man thought it genuine, he may tolerate him more. If not, then G’raha continues his façade. All the better for all involved, he thinks.

\---

“You seem as if you’re a world away.”

G’raha does not turn as he responds to the query. “Mayhaps, but I’ve a duty to complete here, and so I shall remain.” He chuckles lightly, adding to his comment when Rammbroes does not respond. “Worry not, I’m simply wondering about my fellows at Sharlayan; it’s been a while.”

“I’d say you’re due for a break, G’raha,” Rammbroes replies, standing with him against the stones. “And why take your ponderings here? The connections you’ve made at the Find would be glad to assist you in any thoughts that ail your mind.”

Syrcus Tower gleams amongst the fog, a pillar that refused to fall even when the world wanted to.

He thinks of the Warrior of Light the same way.

G’raha smiles, bitter and warm. “There are better things for them to lend an ear to than a wayward scholar, Rammbroes.”

\---

There are no words he can use to describe the expressions of NOAH.

In his wandering mind, his trailing thoughts that slow as chill and warmth sink into his skin as he follows a mindless path to his slumber –

He hopes they can forgive him.

\---

“They wrote about you.”

“... ‘they’?”

Biggs III low hum was his answer. “Aye. Far past the records about the Tower, and more in personal detail.”

G’raha does not know how to respond to that statement.

Biggs III turns towards him, and under those darkened glasses G’raha knows they’re looking at his eyes.

“They considered you more than a vessel for the Tower. If anything, they considered you a dear part of their hearts, Lord G’raha.”

\---

When the Crystal Exarch disappears from the festivities, they follow. He senses their aether, etched upon the crystalline arm.

They’re quite aware that he was not one for large crowds and events. Neither of them, truly – G’raha had always found his own spot by the camp, shy and uncertain of his place in their ranks, and the moment the banquet seared itself into their memory, he’d expect that large-scale gatherings would bring discomfort at the least.

His face colours as he becomes distracted by the pile of gifts set aside by the teleporter, placed in delicate formation when he’s captured by a hug from behind, a nose nuzzling one of his ears.

“I see they’ve made their move,” the Warrior says, “they were wondering how they’d take you out of the Tower. Seems they had to use me as a weapon.”

“Under those titles and pretenses, you are from a weapon, love,” he replies aimlessly, eyes taking in the pile. “ _How_...”

A hand catches his own, the thumb brushing against his knuckles. “I have answers to all of those, but I must ask you to indulge me in something else for a moment.”

They hand him a bundle, tied off with a sea blue ribbon and he gingerly reaches up to take it in his hands. He looks at them, a silent question.

The smile he receives in return brings coils of warmth to his chest as they respond.

“Krile said you’re to keep it.”

His breath catches on the wind.

 _Krile_ \- a name he hadn’t heard past anyone’s lips but his own for years, and the memory is enough to make him stumble and stutter.

When he recovers, he pushes himself to make a request.

“Will you stay, then?” He asks, the Tower humming gently in assurance. “To ensure I keep it like her will dictates?”

They press a soft kiss to his forehead in response.

\---

The ribbon slips off easy, silk running through his crystal hand like water. The Warrior has their hands in his hair, smoothing it out of its original braid as they take the ribbon from his hand.

_“Raha,_

_It’s been a long time._

_There are so many things I wish to say, but I think it’d be best that I refrain simply because it will be easier – and better – to tell you in person._

_No ulterior motives, of course. We Students of Baldesion were taught never to reveal sensitive information in letters, and if you’ve forgotten about that practice, this is my reminder to you._

_I’ll say this instead: in my years of working with the Scions, I’ve met aplenty of new friends and allies, some of which are mutual to us. They’ve their own tales to tell, so I’ve made sure this letter remains sealed with a memento of ours. It hadn’t failed us before, and I’m sure it won’t fail us now._

_I’m sure it will look lovely on you. Don’t tie it by yourself now, alright? You have people willing to do it for you. You show so much love to others._

_Let them show you that they love as you well._

_You’d do well to take your own advice for once, Raha._

_Thank you for being alive._

_Your dearest sister,_

_Kururu.”_

A drop smudges one of the words and he blinks, memories jolting and his heart aching.

He pushes the letters back, far away from his tears so they wouldn’t be stained anymore, precious _mementos_ of a time past his grasp did not deserve his markings on it and _yet_ –

“Raha?” It’s only then that he notices the hand brushing through his hair ceases and he blinks away the tears, looking up to face his beloved. “Raha…”

He chokes back _something_ – a cry or a laugh, it doesn’t matter to him as the last of his energy drains away and he crumbles in his spot, collapsing into waiting arms as he spots the ribbon tied through his hair.

A _fool_ \- an old, selfish, sentimental fool that had forgotten what it meant to live past surviving, memories lost and drifting upon the void he thought himself destined to fall in.

Fingers curl against a cheek and Raha tilts his head, pressing himself deeper into the Warrior’s embrace.

“Don’t forget the hearts you’ve touched along the way,” they say, running their free hand through his hair, “for they ache for you as well, Raha.”

The others letters – through the blurs of his tears, his eyes can still make out the names listed on the letters. Cid, Rammbroes, Biggs, Wedge and so many other names that once were lost to him, now filling the chasm of his heart.

A hand cups his chin, brushing stray tears away. “’twas not my intention to make you weep, love.”

His voice cracks in response. “I believe – not all intentions are meant to go one way, but they come out for the better.”

They tugged at him, locking him closer in the hug. They knew what he meant, under the pretenses and covers.

“Rest, Raha. We’ll be here when you awaken. All of us – and their words as well.”

In his dreams, Raha finds himself home alongside those he thought lost.

**Author's Note:**

> Companion piece to an unreleased fic (keyword: home). And this will probably serve to be the beginning of my collections. I'm not really sure myself.  
> Headcanons abound! Feel free to figure out what my headcanons are.
> 
> Was not my intention to release this for Starlight, but here we are.  
> Happy Starlight, everyone. May your adventures go on.
> 
> (Exarch calls her "Mistress" in 5.1 but Krile refers to him as "Raha" IM IN AGONY)


End file.
